She could feel Martin’s eyes boring into her as she entered the room, her own personal Farhat. His smile faded. Inside was the blue stone she had lost in the 1800’s. “By-the-bye,” he said, presently, “your sister was married to old Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t she? I saw the notice in the papers. And I’d do it again for you if needs be. At last the panel swung back into the library. I wanted to speak to you first.
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